


Subtle Science of Re-Gifting, The

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-11-19
Updated: 2002-11-19
Packaged: 2019-05-30 23:31:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15107051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Josh. Donna. Decorative Hand Towels.





	Subtle Science of Re-Gifting, The

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**The Subtle Science of Re-Gifting**

**by:** spitzthecat  


**Category/Pairing:** Josh/Donna  
**Written:** November 16, 2002  
**Rating:** ADULT for language  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, never gonna be mine. Anything you recognize from pop culture isn't mine either. If it was, would I still be this deep in debt? Really, if you want my crappy ass job, truck payment and two emotionally disturbed cats you're welcome to them.  
**Summary:** 29th in the Joshua Monologues Series. Josh. Donna. Decorative Hand Towels. 

* * *

**__**

Sunday, March 3, 2003 � 5 a.m.

The world is dark and completely silent when I open my eyes. It takes a second to figure out what woke me: the bear is awake again and squirming.

This baby is as restless as its father and we're only halfway there. Only since last night have the bear's activities been very noticeable. I've been feeling some faint fluttering movement for a few weeks, but it hasn't been frequent or distracting.

This new development is going to take some getting used to.

Frost coats the windows, but I can see the snow is still gently falling. I wiggle deeper into Josh's warm embrace, grateful for the flannel sheets and down comforter he picked out for the king-sized bed.

"Good morning," his scratchy voice whispers in my ear.

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No," he sighs contentedly, tightening his grip on me. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Your bear is up." 

Let's establish this right now. When this child is good, it is mine � when it is misbehaving, or causing me grief, it is my husband's.

The eagerness with which Josh slides his hand to my abdomen makes me smile. Almost on cue, the bear kicks for him.

"Cool!"

"Yeah," I tease. "It isn't kicking and keeping you awake."

Josh's splayed fingers caress my taut skin and his next remark is obviously directed at the baby. "Hey, you're keeping your Mommy awake."

The bear's response is another kick.

"I've got a solution for this," Josh murmurs.

His lips wrap around my earlobe and his hands move from the baby to the Wonder Twins.

***

Donna gasps when I roll her nipples between my fingers.

"Good?" I ask. Her breasts have been sensitive through the whole pregnancy.

"Do all your solutions revolve around sex?" she teases, placing her hands over mine in encouragement.

"Yes." 

My lips move from her ear to her collarbone. As I suck and nip at her flesh, Donna grinds herself into my thigh and I can feel her excitement.

"Good," she sighs, rolling over and taking control.

***

Josh confines himself to stroking my thighs after I straddle his waist. Bending over, I take his flesh between my teeth, biting down and causing him to growl.

My hands tangle in his hair while I continue to press need-filled kisses to his chest. Searching fingers eventually travel from my thighs to Squarepants and Josh flips us over, nestling himself between my legs.

He slows our pace down, finding my hands and entwining them with his own.

I don't particularly want to go slow right now.

"Josh," I call, pulling him up to meet my eyes.

***

I nod and do her unspoken bidding. Returning to my activities, but with greater purpose.

When I sense Donna's almost there, I roll us over again and she immediately sinks herself onto me, sheathing Spongebob in her heat. 

Her desire nearly fulfilled, a mischievous glint sparkles in her eye and she remains motionless atop me.

"Donna?" I strangle out, urging her to move in any way.

Her response is to touch her clit while rotating her hips in a tight circle.

Watching Donna pleasure herself makes my need almost painful. My hips surge against her weight of their own accord when she succumbs to her orgasm.

***

Josh is long past being able to control himself.

It is my turn to watch him with his eyes clenched shut and his hands gripping my hips.

"Donna!"

My name on Josh's lips is deep and guttural as Spongebob rocks in and out of Squarepants with as much force as he can muster.

His release is long and thorough and he collapses under me, spent.

I mold my body to his when we've finished. Enjoying this closeness while I still can, I rest my face on his chest and trace his scars absently until Josh's breathing tells me he's fallen back to sleep.

***

Standing at the kitchen window watching it snow and sipping decaf hot chocolate, I decide one of the things I miss about Wisconsin is having a huge yard and being able to go outside to play in the fresh snow. 

When we were little, Pat and I would make snow angels and snowmen. I smile into my mug at the memories of getting up at the crack of dawn to run around the yard making the first footprints in the virgin blanket of white, fluffy wetness. After Freddy was old enough, we'd take him along and pelt him with snowballs. He would go running for his friends and a neighborhood-wide battle would rage for hours.

I want my kids to have that.

The shuffle of feet alerts me to Josh's approach. He puts his arms around me and rests his chin on my shoulder.

"Good morning," I whisper.

"The bear wake you up again?"

I sip my cocoa and nod. "About twenty minutes ago. I needed to get up soon anyway. We're due at the house at nine."

"What for?"

"People bought us gifts. We need to open them."

"No shit?" Josh sounds amazed. "People bought us stuff? What kind of stuff?"

"Stuff you can use to cook dinner tonight with any kind of luck."

"Kitchen stuff?" His amazement morphs into excitement.

"And towels probably." 

I registered us a couple of places so Mom didn't have to field a thousand phone calls about what to get us. My older relatives would have taken it as a personal affront if we told them we didn't want or need any gifts.

I'm glad I did now. The farmhouse is pretty barren. Not that Josh didn't do a respectable job of furnishing the rooms he did, but it needs work. A woman cannot decorate by Pottery Barn alone.

"Once we see what we get, we'll know what we need to buy for the house," I muse.

***

More shopping� Great.

Glad Mom will file the paperwork on the trust fund Tuesday.

Looking out the window at the snow-covered fields, I decide I don't want to think about trust funds or shopping or gifts. 

I want to be naked with Donna.

Bending down, I scoop her into my arms.

"Josh! Put me down!" 

"Nope." I reply, carrying her upstairs to the master bathroom.

Sitting her on the vanity, I run hot water into the cast-iron tub and add some girly bath salts I threw in my stuff on a whim when I packed.

Letting the tub fill, I turn back to Donna. She's wearing one of my old t-shirts. Sliding my hands under the hem, I discover nothing else.

She touches her lips to mine, swirling her tongue around my mouth. I finally break our contact when the tub is full enough. Donna pulls the t-shirt over her head while I shed my boxers and then we climb into the warm water together.

***

It feels so good to just relax. I'm beginning to think Josh has fallen asleep yet again when out of the blue he asks me one of his increasingly weird questions.

"What does it feel like?"

"What does what feel like?"

"Being pregnant." He has his arms wrapped around me with his hands resting on my stomach. 

May I present Joshua Lyman, over-protective father-to-be and general freak?

"It's hard to describe. Especially when it moves. Otherwise, I feel pretty normal." I finally admit. "I'm hungry all the time, though."

He chuckles a bit. "This I've noticed. It's like living with Ainsley Hayes."

"What else do you notice?" I tease him, digging an elbow into his ribs.

"You change moods faster than you change conversation topics," he quips.

I'd be offended if it weren't true.

"And?" I'm curious now. Josh seems to be more tuned into this than I am.

He bends his head forward to kiss my collarbone. "You're constantly horny."

"That is the worst pickup line you've ever used." I giggle.

"The water is getting cold." His hands have migrated up to my breasts.

"Just as bad," I inform him, crawling out of the tub.

***

"Donna!" 

She puts her robe on and heads into the bedroom, leaving me sitting in the tub alone, with an aroused Spongebob.

I pull the plug and scramble out of the bubbles into the bedroom.

"We're going to be late, Josh." Donna's sitting on the bed going through her bags, looking for clothes. CJ and Sam arranged getting our stuff here as part of their responsibilities as maid of honor and best man. 

I can only stand in the middle of the room, dripping wet, and gape at her.

"Get dried off and dressed," she orders, ignoring the obvious evidence of my desire to inaugurate the bathroom.

I shrug. I liked my idea better, but marriage is about compromise, right? 

***

"Bitchin'!" Josh is ogling the Heavy-Duty Kitchen Aid Mega Mixer he just unwrapped.

It's from my grandparents, who are here, at my parents' house, along with majority of my family and Josh's mom. The President and everyone from work went back to Washington after the reception last night. 

Fred isn't here either, I sent him on a super-top secret mission.

"See, Timmy, its got a dough hook and an egg-beater." He points out the cooler parts of the mixer to the little boy sitting in his lap.

"You cook, Josh?" Grandma asks, skeptically. 

"Better than I do," I answer for him.

"He bakes, too," Elisa offers from the other side of the living room. "Although I'm still trying to figure out where you learned that."

"You're leaving tonight for your honeymoon, then?" Aunt Katie pries.

They've been trying to weasel the honeymoon details out of him for a week.

Josh looks up at me from the box of everyday dishes he opened. "We're going to honeymoon at home."

"You're going back to DC?" Mom narrows her eyes at us both.

That's when I realize they don't know about the farm.

"No, I bought a place here, just outside of Madison," Josh begins. "As a wedding gift for Donna."

Dad's jaw hits the floor. "You bought a house? Here?"

"Well, I closed on something a little more substantial than just a house. You could call it a farm, I guess. The land has been rented out for years, though."

There's nothing Josh hates more than talking about his money.

"Where?"

Mothers are psychic, don't ever think they aren't. Mom has it figured out.

"Northwest of town," Josh fesses up.

"David and Eileen's place."

***

Watch World War III erupt in my living room. 

Carl and Katie wanted the place, but didn't want to pay what the appraiser said it was worth. They thought if it sat on the market long enough Paul and John would agree to bring the price down.

Josh bought it out from under them. 

And Katie signed off on it.

I look at my son-in-law with a new sense of respect. I don't pretend to understand what he does for a living, but this was brilliant.

Sneaky, but brilliant.

"Wait a minute," Paul looks confused.

I shake my head at my husband, trying to subtly tell him to drop it.

"Can I talk to you in the kitchen?" He jerks his head that way, biting back what he was going to say.

***

I hand Tim off to Pat and follow Paul into the other room.

"You bought my parents place?" he scowls at me.

Maybe I should have brought Tim with me, as a human shield.

I nod. "Yes, sir."

My father-in-law looks dumbfounded. "Why?"

"Because Donna told me you all wanted it to stay in the family," I shrug. "And because I want my kids to not grow up only living in the city. My grandfather used to say it was a shame my sister and I never got to spend time in the country."

"Can you afford this?" 

The seriousness of his delivery almost makes me laugh.

"Yeah. I can afford it."

"Seriously, Josh. If you can't, we can rescind the contract."

He's very worried about my financial well being.

"Paul, I've got some money stashed away. We're fine. The kids will be fine," I pause to let it sink in. "The great-great-grandkids will be fine."

"How much money?"

"Grandfather left his entire estate to me when he died 25 years ago and my dad left me most of his," I hedge.

"Stop beating around the bush and just tell me." Paul's starting to sound exasperated.

"A lot. I don't even know the exact total. I have ownership of two of the trusts and that's almost all in blind investments. I get the third one as soon as my mother and the accountant file the paperwork. The money for the farm is coming out of it, what's left gets tossed in with the others."

"But it won't drain it?"

"No."

"I get the impression there's more?"

"One more. It will be turned over on the birth of my first child."

"What did your grandfather do?"

"He was a jeweler." I tell him the truth, just not the whole story, while glancing out the window at the falling snow. I don't feel like talking about it today.

***

Josh shifts his gaze from the snow to me. The hard look in his eyes eliminates any other questions I wanted answers to.

"Money isn't a problem," he continues. "But I'd just as soon the entire family not know. It makes a lot of people uncomfortable. We live on our combined salaries and keep the trust money for larger stuff. Like when Donna redecorated our apartment last summer."

All I can do is agree. I'll tell Deb about it, but I have a gut feeling it won't surprise her.

***

It appears they've settled everything when Josh and Dad come out of the kitchen.

Uncle Carl is still spoiling for a fight, but Aunt Katie actually told him to shut up and stop being an ass a few minutes ago.

It floored me, too.

Josh sits back down on the floor and leans up against the couch between my legs.

"What's next?" he asks.

I laugh and drop a squishy package on his head.

Ripping the paper off it, he holds up a bunch of decorative hand towels. "What are these? And why are there twenty of them in here?"

***

We're just finishing up when Carl finally can't take it anymore.

"Where in the hell did you get enough money to buy that farm?" he demands.

"Carl!" Katie just glares at him.

"It's none of your business," I reply. Donna's hand on my shoulder is the only thing preventing me from laying into this asshole. "The purchase contract is signed. If you wanted the place so bad, you should have bought it. I let the damn thing sit on the market for over a month. If you weren't so damn cheap, the place would have been yours."

Okay, so maybe I laid into him a little bit. 

From the muffled laughed filtering around, I doubt anyone minds.

***

We spend the rest of the day writing Thank You cards. Fred and Josh are loading everything into the rental car when Dad slips his arm around me.

"Everything okay?" I ask, resting my head on his shoulder.

"Yeah. I wish I'd known before, but�" he trails off and shrugs.

"He's uncomfortable talking about the money, Daddy. I didn't know until after he proposed." I feel the need to explain a little more.

"Fred said he put it in the garage," Dad changes the subject on me.

Josh isn't the only one with secret wedding schemes.

"You can come out to the house tomorrow and see it," I kiss his cheek and get into the car.

The drive home passes in comfortable silence. Once there, we start carrying everything inside.

"What's the deal with hand towels?" he asks, hauling the last load of stuff into the house.

"Why?" 

There's a story about the hand towels. I'll admit it. It started years ago and they've been re-gifted at every family wedding for the past who-knows-how-long. Each couple adds a new, ugly towel and passes it on to the next sorry sucker.

"Decorative hand towels, Donnatella?" Josh raises his eyebrows at me. "Three of them look older than me."

I explain the Moss Family tradition of hand towel re-gifting while he organizes the kitchen.

"Okay, I get that part," his muffled voice issues from inside a cabinet where he's stashing his Heavy-Duty Kitchen Aid Mega Mixer. "But there was an entire other package of them. And they were lemon yellow with red roses."

"Those were just a bad gift idea from Great-Aunt Gertrude," I admit, gathering our coats off the counter.

"Exactly what do we do with those fifteen decorative hand towels, Donna?" Josh emerges from the cabinet, his hair sticking every direction.

"Give them to Margaret for Christmas next year," I suggest as I help him up.

***

"Come out to the shed with me." Donna hands me my jacket.

"It's cold outside, Donna." I just want to fix dinner for us and go back to bed. Tomorrow is going to be a long day shopping for house stuff. 

"Joshua." 

I sigh and shrug my coat on before following her out the door.

***

The gift I got for Josh is not entirely altruistic on my part. Let me explain the situation this way, we currently own one car: an Audi convertible with two seats; and we're having a baby. 

You do the math.

"Donna?"

We're standing in the door to the garage looking at my gift to Josh.

"Yes?"

"There is a '64 Mustang convertible in the garage," he's gaping at the car.

"Yes, there is."

"It's in mint condition." Awe fills his voice.

"Yes, it is."

I've been saving money hand over fist since I moved in with Josh last August. After the Convention and our little road trip, I called Dad. Dad works with a guy who is a classic car buff. He found the body at a junkyard and completely rebuilt it. Fred delivered it for me this afternoon during the hand towel re-gifting.

"Donna?"

"You got me a farm, I got you a classic convertible," I shrug.

"I have to trade in the Audi, don't I?"

Who said my husband wasn't quick?

"Yep."

"We're driving home?"

"Nope."

"How are we getting the car to DC?"

***

Donna has this little smirk on her face. She kicks my ass in the planning department � have I mentioned that lately?

"Fred has spring break in a couple of weeks. He and Pat are going to drive it out," she tells me.

I open the door and slip into the driver's seat.

The car isn't exactly to original specs. The body is cherry red with a white ragtop. The interior is white, except instead of vinyl, the seats are leather. The dash looks original at first glance, but on closer inspection, everything is digital. The AM/FM radio has been replaced with a Bose digital stereo/CD system.

"Wow." I'm floored she went to this kind of trouble for me.

"You like it?" Donna asks, hitching her hip against the door.

"I do. Thank you, Donna." I start to pull her into my lap before I decide having sex in the Mustang is a logistical impossibility.

She apparently decides the same thing, because she pulls back and I get up out of the car.

"Make me dinner," Donna smiles at me. "Then we'll practice making Bear a cub.

Tightening my grip on her hand, I bring it to my lips. 

"Every night. Forever," I promise.

Next (coming soon): "March Madness"

"I am not driving a minivan."


End file.
